


Frozen

by Dorax



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Depression, Emotions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Build, So many emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorax/pseuds/Dorax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slowly drowning in his own rage, Jak doesn't realize how close he is to his own breaking point. Enter Torn, the jackass capable enough of making sure Jak spilles his guts, metaphorically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. snow

Big, fat snowflakes were falling over Haven, the winter had sneaked up early on the citizens and it had been the harshest one in years. Ice and snow only made the city look even more cold and gloomy, and the layer of fresh powder made the streets even more uninviting than before.

Ploughing trough the snow, Jak was cursing his size. There weren't even any zoomers to high jack, with this temperature his fingers would freeze right on the handlebars. 

“Don't forget, second left!” Came a muffled voice from his jacket.

“I know, Dax! It's not the first time I've been to the sewers!” 

“And it's also not the hundredth time you've managed to get us lost so bad we had to call Kira!”

The teen rolled his eyes at that. He could still hear the girl's laughter ringing in his ears. After a while she just became annoyed and downright scary, anyway, the motivation was there to learn some directions.

Trudging diligently, they finally arrived at the sewers, the gears and chains ratteling away to open the steel door.

After that it became pretty routine, it was a simple maintenance of the sewer. Torn often sent his agents trough here and it was his job to take care none of them got mauled by any invading metalheads.

When the elevator groaned to a halt, Jak drew his morph gun and mechanically activated the blaster mode, hearing it click and whir into place.

The ugly bitches were as always easy to dispatch, exploding in floaty eco and a yellow cranium. Dax got the skulls, cursing greedy prucursorstatues and yelling for Jak to kill them a bit slower, damnit!

Ten minutes later the dynamic duo were once again standing at the entrance of the sewer, Jak teasing Daxter about the fact he fell into the disgusting water, when his instincts gave a peculiar twitch.

The opening doors revealed two long rows of krimzon guards, all their weapons aimed at his chest.

The first thing he did was automatic, something ingrained in his system since Dax became an otsell: Jak grabbed Daxter by the scruff and threw him to safety. The pain of such a fall was worth his safety.

When he heard the noise of the gunshots, Jak was already transforming, blinding pain ripping trough his skull and a red haze entering his eyes. The teen felt the dark eco latch onto his fury, feeding and guiding it, making it massive yet condensed.  
A furious roar ripped itself from Jack's throat as he felt his body tense in anger. His muscles screaming at him to MOVE, to do something with the neverending rage in him. 

The red-armoured soldiers didn't stand a chance against the eco-enhanced teenager; soon they lay dead in the snow, blood a horrifying pattern around them. 

Panting, Jak stood amidst this destruction, all the while battling the chaos within. The anger was never sated by destruction or death, it only ever seemed to increase and eclipse itself, the only way to make it retreat in his gut again was by pure willpower. 

Even after the dark eco had burned out off his system, the need to destroy never stopped. Also; Jak noted with concern, it seemed increasingly harder to suppress his violent urges, even when he wasn't under the influence of the purple crap.

“WOOHOO; I believe that's a personal asskicking record, my dear Jak! NOW GET ME OUTTA HERE, I'M FREEZING!” 

Interrupted in his thoughts, Jak looked around to find Daxter up to his chin in snow on the roof of a nearby building. 

Once the greenhead freed Daxter, he noticed his little friend was soaked to the bone and shivering. Making a quick decision, he stuffed the ottsel in his jacket and took off towards Tess's house, which was by far the closest.

Luckily the fight made him considerably warmer, helping the icecold creature against his chest warm up a little.

Within a few minutes, Daxter was lying rolled up in a fluffy towel in front of a fire, for once not even noticing Tess fussing over him as he was fast asleep.

“Aw, poor little guy, I hope he doesn't get sick from this. It was a good idea to come to me, Jack, I'll take care of your friend. Do you want something warm to drink?” 

As always, the teenager was moved by Tess's motherly behaviour, but sadly he couldn't take her up on her offer.

“For now I really have to report to Torn, it can't wait. Maybe later, when I'll come get Daxter, okay?” 

“Okay, do you know when you'll be back?” Tess asked.

“Normally it shouldn't take more than two hours, but I don't know if the commander needs me for another mission, I hope we're not intruding too much.”

“Don't be silly, I really don't mind. Who else is going to mother you two? You guys seriously need it, plus with this weather I don't have to work.” She said with a wink.

 

The teen blushed in embarrassment because of course Tess hit the nail right on it's head. Jak couldn't even remember a mom.

“Well, I’ll be back later, thanks for everything.” He said as he walked out the door.

Anger filled him unexpectedly when he stepped outside, it was probably this damn snow, making the journey to underground HQ truly annoying.

With a disgusted noise he pushed the anger back to it's usual place as he started pushing trough the knee-deep fluffiness. At least it had stopped snowing.

After almost a half-hour trek, his pants and boots were water-logged and resentment burning low in his gut, Jak arrived at his destination.

After entering, the thoroughly annoyed teenager took a few deep breaths, Torn valued professionalism; it wouldn't do any good lashing out in anger.

Sopping into the hideout, the first thing he noticed was Torn bowed over the all familiar map of the city, dotted with different kinds of tacks. 

“Report.” Torn commanded, not even bothering to look up.

Annoyance flared unexpectedly trough Jak, surprising him in it's intensity. With effort he once again stomped it down and began his report in a monotone voice.

“Stop.” Torn cut in when he was almost at the end of his report. “How many krimzons were there?” He asked disbelievingly, finally looking up. 

“No more than twenty or thirty. They are all dead.”

“Well, that's obvious judging by your clothes, the problem here is that if there were this many krimzons in one place, there was some planning involved. Did anyone see you entering the sewers?” Torn asked concerned.

“Almost impossible with the snow that was falling and we were only ten minutes in the sewers, not nearly enough time to efficiently gather that many krimzon guards.”

“FUCK.” The commander cursed with his face in his hands. “This means someone KNEW about your mission. For now, you can use the showers and the washing facilities. You don't have to worry about the rest, leave it to me.”

Shrugging, Jak did as he was told. HQ had some pretty well stocked rooms, from an infirmary to a bathroom. It was when he began undressing that he really noticed and acknowledged the now brown stains in his clothing. Sullenly he filled a basin with water, soap and vinegar.

It didn't faze him any more that he knew the best way to wash blood from clothing, it left him as ice-cold as the water he rinsed his clothes with.

After hanging his clothes to dry, Jak started a shower, immediately stepping under the cold spray. 

Maybe it was the relief of the cold water that unsealed something inside of him, or maybe it was the swirling patterns of old blood and water that drew his eyes like a magnet. 

Suddenly his knees became weak; rage and anguish filled him so suddenly he had to steady himself with two hands on the wall. An ugly sob was forced out of him as he remembered the same hands, covered in blood and several other liquids. Remembering the joy and malice, feeling how scorchingly hot bodies were inside, hearing the pleas that made him euphoric at the time.

All of it was filling his head, mixing together, making him more unstable with every flashback. Resentment gutted him from the inside out.

Before he could become overwhelmed by all of it he smashed his forehead against the wall, the pain giving him something to focus on besides the emotions that were making him physically nauseous. 

It wasn't the first time this happened, so he already knew how to make it all go away. Jak forced his ragged breathing to slow, pulling in and pushing out air between his grinding teeth. 

He focused on the ice-cold shower now pounding on his upper back, pulling in the cold; making it permeate him completely, until the emotions were back in his gut, frozen; leaving only bone deep exhaustion behind.

With mechanical movements the teen washed and dried off. 

As he wasn't stupid enough to put on damp clothing in this weather, he went for some coffee only clad in his boxers. 

Leaning against the counter, waiting for the beep of finished coffee, Jak almost missed Torn walking in.

Normally he would be quite self-conscious about standing around in just underwear, but somehow he barely cared, didn't feel anything, really.

“Jak, I'm afraid you can't get back to Tess, a blizzard just hit the city. I can't risk letting you go out now.”

A weak flare of anger flashed trough the teenager at being told what to do. But it dissipated just as quickly because of his exhaustion.

With a sigh, he gruffly answered. “Fine, I'll take one of the bunks for the night.”

He missed the concerned look Torn had when muttering an acknowledging answer. 

After Torn left for his own room, Jak relocated to the bunks, a cup off coffee warming his hands. 

Downing the still scalding liquid, relishing in the burning it left in his throat, he put the cup on the central table with plans to wash it off tomorrow, and he fell into the closest bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Yow, Dorax will appreciate every comment you throw her/his way so don't hesitate to mash up some words for her/him^^


	2. candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interraction! Oh man, you guys are going to hate me taking it this slow XD

Torn didn't trust the kid.

Why, you ask?

First of all, there were no records on him whatsoever, one day he just appeared and demanded to join the underground. While he liked seeing his recruits full of spirit, he had sought to teach Jak a lesson in humility. The kid looked like a moody teenager with his pet!

Mar, was he proven wrong! Ten minutes after sending Jak towards the ancient city, he left as well, certain he would have to do a rescue mission. He could already see the kid struggling with a metalfrog. His self-satisfaction soon sank into the ground, as he saw the kid and the rat already at the top off the tower. Not only that, he had to physically stop himself from gaping as he saw the boy, not only utterly destroying an important, cultural part of the old town, but also having the dumbest luck in all of freaking history.

At least, that's what he initially thought when the smug little bastard landed right in front of him, holding the flag like a trophy. As he reluctantly accepted Jak into the underground, he was a man of his word unfortunately, Torn once again underestimated the kid in thinking he would quit after he would undoubtedly fail his first mission. 

Once again he was proven wrong. And once again he put the blame on the kid's dumb luck.

The commander didn't like being proven wrong, not one bit. And as the kid and his rat returned from increasingly difficult missions, his suspicion grew; how was it possible that a brat barely out of his teens was becoming one of his most valuable assets?

(And the fucking rat was going to put him in an early grave, by now Torn was convinced Mar was getting payback for his time as a krimzon, or for being an overall bastard. Sweet payback in the form of an early aneurysm.)

Suspicion transformed into outright distrust after hearing rumours of a so-called “demon” completely obliterating complete squadrons of krimzon guard. There was no mistaking this for anyone else than Jak, for example the destructive duo were always nearby when such a massacre happened and secondly, Torn was utterly done underestimating the kid.

And although Jak was helping them win the war almost single-handedly, the baron grew harsher the more the renegade kept taunting him. It didn't matter how many men and women Praxis sent, almost all of them came back in body bags. When they tried piecing the guards together to fit in one, that is.

The viciousness with which they were torn apart made even Torn afraid. No, terrified! The least he could do was admit it to himself, Torn thought as he watched the boy sleep.

Jak was conked out in one of the beds. Torn, situated at his map-table, had the rare opportunity to observe the so-called demon while he was asleep. It wasn't much to look at, he almost seemed like a regular teenager, sprawled over the bed like that. And by Mar's infinite children, the boy looked angry even in his sleep!

Jak looked dead to the world yesterday, an empty look in his eyes while he rattled his report stoically. Something he would have expected from veterans. The kid was regularly an angry, cocky, gun toting little brat, if he wasn't downright vengeful. But yesterday... something was wrong with the boy... okay, more wrong than usual.

Even catching the kid in his underwear didn't merit an emotional response. What the hell was up with him? He's seen Jak flounder when he was just topless, going from stoically posing in front of the mirror to yelping like a little girl upon spotting him. He'd been amused for days on end, his men looking increasingly anxious when he chuckled.

Though, with some luck he would finally know what the kid's deal was. A few days ago he had asked Ashelin for information, she could access the baron's most restricted files. It was a bit low to go behind Jak's back like that, but he had to know, the ignorance was driving him crazy! 

After months of knowing just snippets of the green haired boy (and who the hell had GREEN hair he'd like to know too) he was getting a bit desperate. 

As it was, it could take awhile before he got his greedy hands on that particular information, they were snowed in by the freak blizzard of yesterday. The communicators worked sporadically and until now he had not succeeded in reaching Ashelin.

Fuck it, Torn thought, while he took himself a shot glass of the most alcoholic beverage he could find, it was afternoon somewhere. If it stopped snowing right now, which wasn't very likely, it would still be several days until the underground was at full capacity again. Today he wasn't expecting anyone.

He threw back the liquid and gave a satisfied noise at the burning sensation pooling in his stomach. It was a nice contrast with the cold that invaded the sacred walls of HQ. As the glass clinked on the wooden surface of the table, Jak finally began to stir. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” He said gruffly.

Jak jumped out of bed, wide-eyed, promptly falling face first on the ground when his feet tangled in the disregarded blanket.

Still huffing and puffing in surprise, the kid looked almost scared. Where had the boy been sleeping to cause such a reaction? Another mystery to be filed away in his head.

“Torn? Why... Where... no, what time is it?” Jak looked around bewildered, pressed flat against the wall, eyes still darting around even though he knew he was in headquarters.

“Well, it's afternoon somewhere.” Grinned the commander as he poured himself another drink.

Jak looked more confused than ever.

“Never mind.” Sigh. “Were snowed in, you could sleep all day for all I care.” 

At this point even Torn took pity on him, the kid looked like he couldn't comprehend the concept of 'snowed in'.

Suddenly the boy's eyes grew comically wide. “FuckMar, Daxter! He's still with Tess!”

“Damn, still alive. I hoped a more permanent thing happened to the rat.” That merited another downing of alcohol in Torn's book. 

With a sour look, Jak dragged himself to the bathroom; giving Torn some respite.

The commander was blissfully alone for five minutes.

“How come we're snowed in?”

“Take a guess, genius.” Said Torn as he rolled his eyes. Worth another refill.

Something flashed in Jak's eyes, but the boy didn't take the bait. Instead he sat down on the other side of the table.

Huh, strange. Maybe the kid was finally maturing, but Torn didn't put much faith in that theory.

“Give me one of those.”

Torn's non-existent eyebrows raised to his hairline when he realized Jak was referring to the alcoholic beverage.

“Are you even of legal age to drink?” Torn asked sceptically; he didn't want to poison his best warrior.

With a deadpan look Jak answered. “I'm old enough to kill.”

That made the commander pause. “Good point.” He conceded and took a second glass, filling it to the brim.

He was almost impressed when the kid downed it without flinching or, as he had hoped, coughing it back up.

“Shouldn't you eat something first?”

“You're my superior, not my dad. Now give me a refill.” 

Another good point, Torn thought and rewarded the youth with another glass. This time they both emptied their respective glasses. They weren't going to last long at this rate.

An idea popped into Torn's head. “How about a game?”

“A game?” Jak narrowed his eyes.

“Don't worry, it's pretty simple. Even you will understand.” Torn smirked. “I start with saying never have I ever' and then I add a statement, if you have done it, you drink.”

“Errr... for example?”

“For example, when I say never have I ever kissed a girl.” The commander sipped his drink. “I kissed a girl so I get to drink, see?”

“Oh.” Almost as an afterthought Jak downed his glass. “Like this?”

“You gotta learn to sip, Jak. You're not going anywhere soon, remember? And when have you ever kissed a girl?” Torn snickered. 

The kid rolled his eyes. “It's my turn. Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.”

“Really? You're going to be like that?” Torn sipped again. “Never have I ever let my best friend sit on my shoulder.”

 

This went back and forth for a good hour or so, both of them taking the opportunity to find out more about the other. Problem was Jak was still a lightweight compared to Torn so after awhile he began to slur his words. He still looked angry though.

“Never have I ever smiled” Said the red-head, pointedly looking Jak in the eyes as he downed his drink in one go.

Jak flushed, sputtering indignantly. “I smile, you bastard.” He downed his drink too, looking Torn dead in the eyes as he showed all his teeth with an evil glint in his eyes.

Torn cracked up. 

“Oh Mar, you should see your stupid face. That's not a smile, that's one evil-looking grin.”

“Whatever, I'm done; I'm going back to sleep.” The youngster said, standing up abruptly and a few steps further collapsing on a bunk. 

Torn looked baffled as Jak began snoring loudly in his pillow. 

“Psh, lightweight.” He downed another shot.


	3. instincts

Jak felt like shooting himself in the head when waking up, it would probably be less painful than the way his brain was sticking to his skull.

Every movement gave another rolling wave of agony and nausea.

He barely felt the nudge at his shoulder.

"Hey, kid, come on. My arm's getting stiff over here."

Cracking open one eye, and immediately regretting it, he forced his head to the side. There stood Torn in all his glory, clearly not as hungover as Jak was.

"Well? Take it!" Torn said annoyed.

Bringing his eyes in focus, he only now just noticed the glass being held at eye-level.

With a groan and a considerable effort, he managed to sit up straight, noticing his clothes in complete disarray. With resolution, he accepted the glass of water and drank it's contents in a few big gulps, hoping it would help his parched throat.

When coolness slid down his throat, he could almost moan at the heavenly feeling. That heavenly feeling only lasted until the water hit his stomach.

His roiling tummy made him speed towards the bathroom, where the water was expelled just as fast as he had drank it.

With his forehead on the cool porcelain of the toilet and his face half in said bowl; he couldn't stop the miserable moan that left him when the convulsions finally receded.

That's when he noticed a tugging at his hair. Rolling his head to the side, he noticed Torn crouching next to him, hand holding up his mane, eyes averted and Jak HAD to be hallucinating. That's it; the alcohol had screwed with his head and he was so desperate for some positive attention he was making up the impossible scenario of Torn being nice and helpful.

That's when his stomach made a desperate attempt to escape trough his mouth again.

Nope, definitely not hallucinating, he thought when he felt his belly muscles cramp in pain.

"Come on, hotshot. Let's get you something to eat."

At this he felt a hand under his arm, tugging him up. Jak wasn't really in any state of mind or body where he could shrug it off. Although letting himself be led was humiliating, it would be worse if he fell on his face.

That's when he remembered waking up last time. With an embarrassed blush he thought about that particular face-plant. Normally he would find a tree or a bridge to sleep under, off course there was the constant danger off getting spotted by krimzons. Let's just say it wouldn't be the first time he woke up with a frigging boot in his gut or worse, a situation where he had learned to respond immediately to his fight-or-flight instincts.

When he was seated, he dropped his head on his arms, relieved that his headache was waning a bit.

"Here, and for Mar's sake, try to keep it down. You'll feel better, trust me, kid."

" 'm not a kid." Jak mumbled and glanced up. He had to blink to be sure there was a plate with a sandwich in front of him, paired with another glass of water.

"um... thanks?" Confusion was messing with his already messed up brain.

"Oh don't look so surprised. I doubt you could walk across this room without falling on your face, let alone find your way to the kitchen. By the way, eat with small bites, seriously." Torn said, although he kept his eyes on the far wall.

With reluctance, the youth started forcing down the food bite per little bite, meanwhile taking tiny sips of the water.

And indeed, after his plate and glass were empty he felt a lott better, though his head still felt a little fuzzy.

Jak was also at a loss for words. Not that surprising, but he's be lying if he said the commander's behavior wasn't making him uncomfortable. Paired with the large black holes in his mind where his memories of last night were supposed to be, the silence was slowly turning awkward for him.

It didn't seem to be affecting Torn though. The red-head was resolutely staring at the same wall, apparently deep in thoughts.

"Um; do you know if we're still stuck here?" He ventured gingerly.

Torn snapped his blue eyes to him, his focus so intent it made Jak wonder if it had been better to just shut up.

The commander averted his eyes with a small sigh and stood up.

"Let's go to the roof, at least we can see how it looks. Maybe we can get some damn reception on my piece of crap communicator."

Torn took them up a ladder which was hidden by a rug. The door that led to the roof needed some serious effort to open, courtesy to the hip-high snow pushing up against the exit.

When finally on the roof, Jak felt his mouth fall open. Although it was freezing, the city looked like it was plucked right out of a fairytale. Everything was white and sparkly, the depressing buildings for once covered with pure white. The air had a crisp touch to it and there wasn't a cloud in sight, leaving the sky light blue. Even the palace looked inviting, covered in a few meters of snow.

"Wow." Jak sighed.

Suddenly he noticed eyes on him. Turning, he met Torn's eyes dead on. There was a pink tinge to his face, even a bit of wonder in his eyes.

After a few uncomfortable moments, the red-head averted his eyes, al the while fidgeting with his gas mask.

What the hell had that been about?

"So, uh... I'll see about that communicator."

He seemed happy enough to just escape the moment of incredible awkwardness. Walking to the edge of the roof, he took out the piece of machinery and punched a few buttons.

With a whir it activated, lifting itself in the air eye-high.

"Ashelin, do you copy?"

The only answer was disappointing static. With a sigh, Torn snatched the thing out off the air, ill demeanor apparent in his brusque movements.

"Let's go inside, kid. Before I freeze my balls off."

Familiar irritation flared in Jak. He really fucking hated being called 'kid', especially by Torn. From day one the commander looked down on him, as if he wasn't even old enough to hold his own in a fight. The fucker had no idea what he had been trough these last years.

His good mood turned sour and suddenly, he could feel the familiar, painful sensation in his skull that signaled his growing horns.

Jak was perplexed for a moment, surely he had a better grip on his power. A flash of agony that ripped itself trough his head proved him wrong.

Nononono, came the desperate litany in his mind. Not now, he couldn't let his rage take over so easily.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jak fell on his knees when another crushing wave of fury rolled over him.

"Jak?" The concerned voice of the commander barely made it trough the haze that had settled over his mind.

Demon eyes snapped up, witnessing the stupidest thing Torn could do in this situation.

The idiot was advancing on him!

"Stay away!" Jak barked.

As expected, Torn wasn't deterred, the fucking moron! It only served to make him angrier because the fucker wouldn't LISTEN.

"Jak, calm down." A waver entered the normally confident voice. "Please, I don't know what brought this on, but I'm not going to hurt you."

A bitter laugh escaped Jak. Hurt him? HURT HIM? The idiot was STILL underestimating him.

Transformation complete, the demon lunged forward, taking the red-head by surprise as he was pinned to the door by his neck. The wide-eyed look that appeared on Torn's face was highly satisfying.

"J... Jak? Are... you still in there?" Insecurity colored the commander's voice and even more astounding; he wasn't struggling at all. Didn't even try to pry the clawed hand of his neck.

Looking his so-called superior dead in the eyes, he closed the distance between them, making sure that his black eyes would be the only thing the fucker saw. Wanting the BASTARD to understand that he wasn't just another KID. He barely restrained himself from crushing the windpipe beneath his hand.

"Do not mistake yourself in thinking the demon is another person, Torn. I am still the same." Jak narrowed his eyes. "I just have less reservation in pulling you limb from limb." He tightened his grip, relishing in the power he had over the other man.

When looking in the azure eyes of the other, he saw something he'd never seen before on the older man. Something Torn was obviously trying to cover up with a level expression.

FEAR.

An unexpected thrill of delight ran trough Jak as he looked at the dilated pupils, he was the one that put that look in the typically fearless gaze of the man. Without hesitation, the demon forced Torn's head to the side and shoved his nose in the crook between shoulder and neck of his victim, inhaling deeply.

There it was, the unique scent of terror permeating the skin of the commander, easily recognizable with his heightened senses. Jak pressed into the shuddering body before him, edged on by the signs of submissiveness that were displayed.

The pulse underneath his hand kicked up a notch and another scent joined the already intoxicating mix that filled his nostrils.

A confusing scent.

No matter how much he tried identifying it, Jak was unfamiliar with what he was presented with. His grip loosened as his disorientation grew. He mashed his nose against the commander's pulse-point, positive he was missing something.

Without really thinking about it, he licked a path up the presented throat, trying to gain more information by taste. Torn froze.

The flavor of the red-head's sweat was somehow tempting him to do it again, so, being DarkJak, he listened to his instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this chapter so did not go how I thought it would.
> 
> At the end I was like "relax, keep it light, nothing sexual dude, just put the fear of DarkJak in Torn (pun NOT intended)" and then it just went all sorts of wrong (or good, depends on your point of view)
> 
> anyhow, let me know what you think, is it moving too fast? I feel like it's moving too fast DX
> 
> Next chapter is angsty and rated E for Emotions!


	4. fire snow burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looky! The plot has arrived! It's still in the startingblocks so have some patience^^  
> Dorax out!

This just wasn’t his day.  
It started out swell with a stab of headache to wake him up.  
After a cup of coffee – heart attack strong – Torn was returning to a relatively pain-free state. Then he spotted the kid passed out in one of the bunks.  
Fetching a glass of water, Torn had every intention of rudely awakening the brat.  
Until he saw the myriad of scars clinging to Jak’s exposed back.  
Seriously? What the hell? How had he never noticed that before?  
With a sigh he changed his plan.  
The commander poked the kid awake and offered him the glass.  
It did wake Jak up at once, he hadn’t seen anyone this fast in a while.  
And then came the weird stuff: as he saw Jak bent over the toilet, his hand suddenly shot out on instinct to preserve the green-head’s hair.  
Damnit! He even made a sandwich for the kid! Paranoid little brat looked at it as if it was poisonous.  
While Jak was eating, Torn felt an uncomfortable silence settle over the HQ. Somehow he couldn’t do anything else but stare at the same spot on the wall to avoid looking at the renegade.  
At the very least it was actually pretty early in the day, so with a little luck the sun’d be strong enough today to make everything accessible again.  
He didn’t like all this waiting, being stuck here and not knowing what the hell was going on out there. A few men still had to come in with important information, some had already been late before the snow-out.  
Plus his most important asset was stuck as well, the only way to reach farther than HQ was his communicator.  
Ah the irony, he was just so thankful Daxter wasn’t here, Torn hadn’t realized how much silence the rat filled, he’d never really noticed the simple fact that Jak hardly spoke.  
Jak, right on cue, roughly intoned some stupid question.  
With a sigh he ushered Jak to the roof, where –hopefully- the transmission would be restored.  
Standing in the almost knee-deep snow, Torn sighed at the beautiful sight of Haven. These snowstorms weren’t uncommon, so he knew what he was dealing with.  
A small sound drew his eyes to Jak. That’s when in the Marhonest first time in his life he saw Jak smile. Really smile.  
It was rather a shock.  
Though more shocking was that something stirred in Torn’s gut. It wasn’t the sign of nausea, rather a faint, disturbing tickle that spread trough him.  
Great, now he was nauseated.  
The communicator was against him as well. Damning the thing to hell and back, he tried getting the kid inside.  
That’s when things turned sour very suddenly. His eyes almost popped out of his skull when he saw the huge black horns growing out of white hair. And those claws!  
Suddenly the reports from his men didn’t seem so exaggerated.  
Purple lightning danced around Jak, was that dark eco? He’d witnessed first hand the amazing ability to just absorb eco and use it’s energy.  
So the commander tried calming Jak down.  
Which landed him in the very confusing situation of Jak pinning him to a door and to be honest, it was pure shock which belated his reaction-punch. It had nothing to do with the thrill that went trough him.  
Jak’s head snapped to the side as Torn suddenly remembered he was dealing with a far more powerful creature than before.  
Astonishingly, a low laugh rumbled from Dark Jak.  
Lightning was crackling the air as the demon stood up and started advancing towards him, black orbs intent on the commander.  
As Torn had thought, this just wasn’t his day, for once he wished he’d just stayed in bed that morning.  
Suddenly Dark’s nose twitched and he stopped, turning his head and inhaling very deeply.  
“No…”  
With that last word Dark took of towards another roof, throwing snow everywhere. The commander pursued him immediately, though with some difficulty. He had to know what the kid was going to do.  
After following the path that Dark had handily ploughed for him, he could see dark smoke in the distance.  
But a fire? In this snow?  
He arrived at the burning building and took to the streets to asses the situation.  
Furniture and random householdthings were scattered around, hastily saved from the fire and strewn around where there was place.  
Several people were sitting amidst the chaos, stunned and soot-ridden.  
Others were throwing buckets of snow at the roaring fire, not really doing much.  
Where the hell had Jak gone?  
A loud crash coming from the burning building answered his question. Jak crashed trough the front door, holding a little girl to his chest.  
Dark roared furiously at the other people around him, lightening drawing paths in the snow. To Torn’s astonishment, the girl clutched at Jak as if he was her last lifeline.  
Complete panic broke out, people scrambling to get out of the beast’s way, yelling and screaming.  
That’s when Dark suddenly hunched in on himself, looking hurt.  
Torn again, realized too late that he was already moving to help Jak.  
When he tried taking the girl out of Jak’s hands, he got a face full of teeth and an angry growl that made the hairs on his arms stand upright.  
“Oh, don’t be such a whiner, you really think I would hurt a little girl?” At least the commander hoped he sounded confident.  
Dark’s eyes seemingly relaxed a little, as if just recognizing the commander. The kid’s eyes widened a fraction and he looked down at the girl.  
“Are you alright?” Dark -surprisingly enough- asked in a rough voice.  
Obviously shaken, the little blonde in his arms nodded hesitantly.  
With a big sigh, Dark relaxed and all colour returned to Jak, the green of his hair looking vivid in contrast to Dark’s bone-white locks. Horns retreated and his fingernails returned to normal length. Then he collapsed.  
“Shit, Jak!”  
The redhead jumped forward as he deftly caught the two before they hit the snow. It would be deadly if they got wet now, HQ was a long way of from here.  
Looking around, he spotted a lone two-seater zoomer and, putting the girl on the ground, he hauled Jak up over his shoulder. By Mar, the kid weighted a freaking ton!  
With a groan, he dumped the kid in the passenger seat, after which he put the girl in next to the knocked out renegade, best to take her with them, if Dark showed such abnormal interest in the girl, something was going on.  
He took the driver seat and began the cold drive back to HQ, which-thankfully- only took a few minutes and they hurried inside, Torn again carrying Jak.  
The warmth of the map-room blasted in their face and the commander was quick to drop off the still unconscious Jak on a bunk where he deftly put a small mountain of blankets on top of him.  
This protective streak he was having towards the kid was getting a bit ridiculous, thankfully Jak didn’t notice it was uncharacteristic for the commander.  
He turned towards the girl and wrapped another blanket around her little frame, noticing her once nice clothing and her small form. She looked twelve but was probably closer to fourteen.  
She had blonde hair and sharp ears.  
“I am Torn, what is your name?” He started out gently.  
“I’m… I’m Lisa?” She almost whimpered as she withdrew a bit from the commander.  
“Shhh, don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, do you know where your mother could be?”  
Her face screwed up and she started crying, loudly.


End file.
